Descent
by StarChylde
Summary: Time and duty have worn Integral's resolve alarmingly thin.
1. Nostalgic Poison

This story takes place about 12 years after the series ends. It's just a continuation snippet revolving around my thoughts concerning the problems of an heir to Hellsing, which Integral would no doubt feel it was her duty to provide.  I'm actually not too pleased with it, but I've done what editing I can, so any feedback with suggestions and improvements would be greatly appreciated.  

**DESCENT**

            _"Integral…" the voice whispered at the edges of her mind._

_            "No," she hissed back at it, adjusting the white collar of her dress.  She looked towards the mirrored panels by the bookshelf quickly and grimaced.  A dress.  Of all things.  But it was traditional, she consoled herself, and it was proper.  A bride should wear a dress.  The thought made her choke slightly; but she composed herself, pulled the veil over her face and turned for the door._

_            "Integral…" the voice came again._

_            "Stay where you are," she snapped.  "No.  My answer is no."_

_            She couldn't explain why she felt so crushed at his sudden withdrawal._

            Integral blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her mind.  She'd been trying to get through these reports for the past hour, but her mind had been constantly wandering today.  She wasn't entirely certain why those mirrored panels by the bookshelf always reminded her of her wedding day, but it was certainly a memory she'd be quite willing to forget…

            "Mamaaaa!"

            Integral shut the folder she'd been holding, resisting the urge to scream at her daughter as she slammed the study door open with a bang, wailing like a banshee.  "Yes, Faith?" she asked, hoping her quiet tone would give the girl a hint.  It didn't.

            "Hope _hit me!"_

            "Don't shout, Faith," Integral struggled to keep her patience.  "How old are you?"

            "Eleven."

            "Then don't act three."

            Faith glared at her mother, flipped her golden curls over her shoulder, and turned around.  "Papaaaa!" she yelled, "Hope hit me and Mama's being mean again!"

            "You hit me first, you little brat!" Hope came tearing into the room two steps ahead of her father.

            "Now, girls," Lord Camden soothed, taking one twin in each arm, "You know better than to fight around your mother.  She's very busy."

            "Mum's always busy," Hope sniffed, "With her stupid company and stupid Walter."

            Integral clenched her hands at her sides, hard enough to leave bruised indentations in her palms but not quite hard enough to draw blood.  Her blood always brought him running—no, she wouldn't think about him now. 

            "Faith, Hope, your mother's business is very important to her.  Why don't you go play with Roberta in the gardens?"

            "I hate Roberta," Faith answered.  "All she ever does is sit under a tree and fan herself.  Can I play with Seras?  Seras always plays games with us."

            "Sure," Lord Camden smiled.

            "Seras is busy today," Integral snapped.  "Go play with Roberta.  That's what we pay her for."

            Three pairs of identical brown eyes stared up into her icy blue ones.  Then Lord Camden ushered the twins out the study door.  "Go down to the gardens and wait for me there, okay?  I'm going to talk to your mom for a minute."

            Integral turned around and stared at the fireplace, at her armchair, and at her reports, lying forgotten on the desk.  She heard the sound of the door swinging shut and the clicking of his shoes across the wooden floor.

            "I thought we agreed not to disagree in front of the children," he said coldly.

            "No, you agreed not to argue with _me_.  I made no such promise.  And besides, Celas _is busy today.  She and Walter…"_

            "Integral."

            Her arguments died on her lips.  "What?"

            "Stop this; things can't go on this way.  I know you love your work, but you're neglecting our daughters—never mind neglecting your duty to me…"

            "What duty?" Integral cut him off in bitter humor.  She had plenty of distasteful duties, but she wasn't aware she owed him one as well.

            There was a strained silence.

            "Don't act so bloody victimized," she continued coolly.  "I didn't love you when I married you, any more than you loved me, and I don't love you now.  That was the agreement, remember?  You could have as many little affairs as you pleased, as long as you left me alone with my work."

            "Integral, that's cruel," he answered, coming up behind her.  She could feel his hot breath on her ear.  He smelled like whiskey.  It figured.  "I always loved you…"

            "No, you decided that you loved me when it suddenly occurred to you that you were getting old and your bed was getting colder and emptier every night," she turned to face him, daring him to argue with her, wishing he would argue with her.  His face contorted into a mask of rage, and he lifted a hand to hit her.  Integral didn't flinch.  He wouldn't hit her.  He wouldn't dare.

            He didn't.  After a moment, his hand dropped to its place at his side.  "I guess I deserved that."

            Integral sighed and rubbed her temples.  "The children are waiting, Jack."

            He turned to leave, and she turned back to the fireplace.  The latch clicked; she heard the door open, but he paused in the doorway.  "Don't you want me to love you?"

            Her breath caught in her throat.  _Don't you want to drink my blood?  She pushed the thought aside with some effort.  "Not if it's a lie."_

            _Not if it means abasing myself to you… she answered the other thought._

            Part of her yearned for him to come back, to shut the door and say it wasn't a lie-- the same part of her that had always yearned to be nothing but a normal woman living out her life and dealing with the small problems of her household.  The rest of her knew he would not say anything, because it _would_ be a lie and even though there was no love lost between them, he respected her.  She almost wished she could give him the same respect, but he was too complacent for her temperament.  It was no surprise, of course, that was why she had married him in the first place—he wouldn't interfere with her mission.  But she couldn't help but want him to be contrary every now and again, or argue simply for the sake of arguing, or to make things difficult simply to rile her up.  

"It's lonely without a companion," he said quietly.  He was quoting her, the line she had given years ago when this deal was first being drawn up.  For some reason, it wrenched her heart—the one that she had tried so hard to turn to ice.  She remembered that day clearly; remembered saying that line, and remembered the face that had flashed through her mind.  It wasn't Jack's.

            By the time she turned around, he had gone.  Integral sank back into her chair by the fire, staring into the dancing flames.  Her reports would have to wait until she could compose herself.  What was wrong with her these days?  She felt so agitated as of late, but she couldn't put her finger on why.

            So he did it for her.

            "They'll never live up to your standards."

            "What do you want, Alucard?" she sighed as she caught a glimpse of the red jacket appear to her left from out of the shadows.  She didn't need his obnoxious tormenting now.

            "You know what I want," he smiled—strange that his demonic grin disturbed her less and less these days.  She closed her eyes and purged that thought from her head.

            "I don't want to drink your blood," Integral snapped harshly.  Every day, the same thing.  She needed to find something for him to do.  Surely there had to be more dangerous vampires somewhere.  If only Seras wasn't so damn efficient with the Freaks these days.

            "Integral…" he started, and then stopped, as if considering something.

            "Go away, Alucard."

            "No."

            Her eyes snapped open and she brought her head up to glare at his leering face.  "What?"

            "I said no," he smiled again. "You'll listen to me today.  You should always listen to your elders."

            "Alucard…" she growled in warning.

            "My master," he began, grinning as she bristled at him, "By the time you were eleven, your father had taught you most of the ropes in the Hellsing Institute."

            "Children grow up at different times, Alucard.  If you had any of your own you'd know that."

            He ignored the barb.  "You know as well as I do that Faith and Hope will likely never be able to lead Hellsing."

"You've never even met them," Integral muttered.

"As per your orders, Master, although you well know that I have watched them since their birth.  Insatiable curiosity about my future master, if you will.  You've already refused to let me turn them, so the only option left is to…"

            "Are you a prophet now, as well?" she snapped, but he would not be put off.

            He braced himself against the armrests of her chair, leaning in close to her face and effectively trapping her in her seat.  "I'm the No Life King, Integral Hellsing.  And I'm offering you eternity."

            "Again," she refused to be impressed, refused to acknowledge the sudden skip in her heartbeat.  "And again, I refuse."

            Alucard hissed at her, baring his teeth.  For one awful moment, Integral was sure that he was going to bite her anyway, and she was sure that she wouldn't really mind it.  Then he shuddered and sank back, his dark hair hiding his eyes entirely.  "_Why?"_

            It was such a pleading tone, that she almost forgot what her answer was and always had been.  She turned the chair so it faced the fire, away from him.  "I have a duty to God and the Queen," she said quietly.  "I will not compromise my mission."

            "Yes," he admitted, leaving his place at her side and moving back to take in the whole room.  "That was the whole reason for this charade, wasn't it?"

            "What are you talking about?" she demanded impatiently.  

            "This," he gestured around him, almost bitterly amused.  "This marriage, these children… you didn't want children, you wanted an heir.  You didn't want a husband, you wanted someone to father that heir."  He glanced back at her, his eyes barely concealing the malicious laughter in his tone.  "Hellsing must go on, yes?"

            She couldn't argue with his logic.  It was true, wasn't it?  She _had only married Jack because he would father her children and then stay out of her way.  She had never tried to convince herself otherwise.  So why did it sting so badly when Alucard threw it in her face?  "Yes," she said quietly.  "Hellsing must go on."_

            His stance changed almost imperceptibly; but she had known him long enough to realize that he was remembering a time long past.  "I didn't expect it to last as long as it has already.  Too long protecting one family—I wanted to kill your father just to make it end."

            Integral raised an eyebrow.  This she hadn't heard before.  "Why didn't you?"

            Alucard smiled and retreated further into the shadows.  "Because one does not kill one's master.  And because he had you," the words grew softer, flowing around her ears like a night breeze.  "And I would protect you forever…"

            By the time she turned around, he had disappeared entirely.  His presence was still there, though, somewhere in the room.  She could feel it.  "Why do you want me to drink your blood?" she pressed, standing.  "What of Seras?"

            He was behind her, his shadow dimming the light from the fire.  There was a fine mist on the floor, covering the wood panels completely.  Her study was quickly turning into a dreamscape from somewhere in his twisted mind, but she found that she didn't really care.  He couldn't use that trick to frighten her anymore.

            "Seras is a child," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and tickling her ear with his breath.  "She does not desire the liberty you command without trying."

            "Alucard," she began, but found she didn't really have anything to say.  He was too close to her, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything either to deter or encourage him.  He seemed to sense her indecision, and chuckled lightly.

            "I won't hurt you," he murmured, brushing her pale hair to the side.  Integral shuddered and broke away.

            "To become… like you," she couldn't bring herself to say the actual words, "Would compromise my standing with the rest of the council.  Hellsing would lose all respect."

            "That's just an excuse," he muttered.  "You know that there's other ways…" he stopped abruptly and turned his back to her.  "Tonight, I'll wait for you."

            "You'll wait forever," Integral snapped.

            That grin again!  "I've got longer than that."  Then he was gone, and her study was her study once more.


	2. Deeper and Deeper

**DESCENT**

            It was dusk when she next looked out the window.  Her pile of reports was diminished, though not significantly.  Her mind had been other places all day.  _That's just an excuse…because you're afraid_.  He hadn't said it, but the implication had been clear.  She'd been preoccupied with it to the point of distraction.  Just an excuse—not an excuse, a real, valid reason!  

            Dusk had given way to dead of night when the realization dawned on her.  What he meant by "other ways."  Quite suddenly, she was torn. No more physical ailments.  No mortal confinements.  No more growing older and more worn out each year, being forced to realize that death was coming and she wasn't ready to turn over her father's institute to anyone else's hands.  No more worries that her successors would be incompetent.  She could keep her eye on _him indefinitely…She could have all the time in the world._

            It scared her.  What had happened to her steel resolve?  Would she give up her humanity so easily?  No.  She stood quickly, determined not to be rash in her judgment.  She needed to get out of this room—it was filled with him, everything in it reminded her of him and clouded her thoughts with silly sentimental ideas left over from her childhood.  Walter.  She needed to talk to Walter.

            It wasn't Walter that she first met in the hall, though.  It was Seras.  The blonde acknowledged her with a nod, and then moved to pass her and continue down the corridor.  Integral remained motionless, searching the other woman's face.  Seras blinked at her and backed up a step.

            "Is… something wrong?" she asked timidly.

            "Were your eyes always red?" 

            "Wha…?"  She took another step backwards, in shock.  "N-no.  They turned this color when…" she faltered and broke away from Integral's piercing gaze.  "They used to be blue.  Master says that they may turn blue again if I drink his blood, but …"

            "Why in hell don't you drink his blood?  Why would you want to remain his servant?"

            Seras collected herself before answering.  "Why would he want to remain yours?"

            Integral had no answer for that.  She was well aware of the implications-- both of Alucard's relationship to her and Seras's to him—but she didn't want to think about it any more than she already had.  She could feel her resolve weakening by the minute.  She shoved the walls around her heart back in place with some effort before focusing on Seras once again.  

            "Did it hurt?"

            Again, the look of surprise passed over Seras's face.  For the moment, it was she who knew things, and she who was providing answers.  She didn't quite know how to handle it.  So she answered honestly.  "No.  It's not meant to hurt; it's…" she flushed slightly.  Integral raised an eyebrow.

            "I see."

            "Ma'am, are you all right?"

            "Yes.  That will be all, Victoria."  She left before the policewoman could say anything else.  Integral couldn't bear the compassionate look in the other girl's eyes. Even with those eerie red-tinged irises, the gaze was too human, too kind, and so very _undemonic.  If it had remained only Integral and Alucard, she could have resisted that secret desire to join him forever.  But Seras complicated things; not only because she so doggedly loved her master, but because her very sweetness and innocence had made Integral realize that even vampires could be good people.  More importantly, they could _remain_ so.  Seras had stayed constant for the past twelve years; she had not adopted Alucard's habits of arrogant cruelty and delight in bloodshed.  And even more incredible, Alucard himself seemed to be tiring of the things he once found wonderfully stimulating.  He was still nowhere near sane, but if anything, Seras had pulled Alucard more towards the light than he had succeeded in bringing her completely into darkness.  Integral had been stunned to find herself jealous of the pair of them.  She'd known that they'd been lovers for years, almost as long as she'd been married to Jack, but she had never cared much about it either way until she had marked the gentler tones he used with Seras.  His mellow behavior had excited such a rage and envy in Integral that she'd had to take a vacation on the Continent to bring herself back under control.  He had never been gentle towards her; even when she was young he had been a fierce and terrifying presence.  And then…_

When she'd returned from her holiday, it had only gotten worse.  Jack's philandering reached an unbearable degree, the twins became incessant chatterboxes, Walter's sister had fallen ill and he'd taken leave to care for her, and Alucard—had been the same.  She knew he was aware of her feelings, and though she would never admit it she was hurt that he didn't even bother to try to be discreet about Seras.  Thank heaven at least that Walter had returned.

  
            Her wanderings quickly found her at her bedroom door.  She almost pressed right by it in her frantic desperation to find Walter (who—she was sure—was the only sane one left in her life).  But something held her back—Jack wasn't the best of husbands, but she did have a duty to him, didn't she?  Even if it happened that she could take the night for her own and keep Hellsing successful and respectable, wouldn't she still be betraying her duty to her family if she abandoned her husband?  

And then the idea: if she was to stay with Jack tonight, she would not go to Alucard, and perhaps by morning this madness that had gripped her would pass.  She turned the handle and moved quietly into the dimly lit room without a second thought.  She approached the bed cautiously, suddenly feeling very shy and uncertain.   What would she say to him now, after that awful incident in the study?  Maybe she didn't need to say anything.  Leaning over the large four poster bed, she started to lift the corner of the comforter, intending to crawl in next to him and see what happened in the morning.  She needn't have bothered—there were already two people sleeping in the bed.

Integral took in both shapes with less emotion than she would have thought possible.  What an awful joke!  _Go play with Roberta, that's what we pay her for…_play, indeed.  She was impressed that he had managed to keep a straight face when she'd said it.  Briefly, she wondered how long this affair had been going on; hours, years?  There was no way to tell.  She slipped out of the room as silently as she had entered, leaning against the closed door in the safety of the corridor.  Her breath was suddenly and unexpectedly ragged.

"Where…" she began, but she was no longer sure who she was trying to find.

_Integral…_

His voice whispered in her mind and made her start in alarm.  _No, she insisted, quickly resumed her frantic searching.  Where the hell was Walter?_

_To the left._

Integral turned right, ignoring the laughter that followed her down the hall.  She would not give him the satisfaction of riling her up.

"Sir Hellsing?  Are you ill?"

"Walter!" she exclaimed, halting abruptly.  Her breath came in short, gasping spurts and she could feel her heart pounding madly in her chest.  "I'm not ill, I need…to talk to you."

Walter nodded slightly and gestured to the open door down the hall a little way.  "Shall we?"

Integral smirked slightly as Alucard's disturbing presence retreated in something of a disappointed sulk. 

****

            This was not going the way she'd planned at all.

            "What do you mean you've been expecting this?"

            Walter sipped his tea quietly.  "Just what I said.  I've been wondering when you were going to talk to me about it.  To be quite honest, I expected it years ago, but you were always very conservative where he was concerned."

            Integral's grip on her mug tightened considerably.  "Explain yourself."

            "It's never been a secret that you two are close, and it's even less of a secret that he's wanted you to join him in his world ever since you were a little girl.  All that's ever stood in the way is you."

            "You're advocating this?" she snapped harshly.

            Walter didn't blink an eye.  "You tell me that the reason you are tempted to accept Alucard's invitation is that as an immortal being yourself, you would be able to protect Hellsing forever, as well as keep him in line.  This wish to protect Hellsing indefinitely, I assume, arises from the fact that neither of the twins seem like very good candidates to run this institution up to par with the standards that your father would have desired.  On the other hand, the reasons you do not want to become a vampire are simply defined as 'God and the Queen.'  Am I correct?"

            "You are," Integral answered sharply.  Walter looked towards the ceiling thoughtfully.

            "I think there are a few things that you don't understand.  The first is your assumption that vampires are, without exception, abominations in the sight of God.  I expect as much out of the Vatican, but in England we are usually more civilized in our judgments.  If God created everything, then it follows that he must have created vampires as well to fulfill some purpose."

            "God created the devil as well," Integral murmured.  "Vampires cheat death and are an abomination in His sight."

            "I won't pretend to know what God considers an abomination," Walter returned immediately.  "I fought with Alucard in the war; and yes, he was bloodthirsty and cruel, but always to his enemies.  The same as any other soldier, he fought for his side.  His pride is excessive, but it makes him loyal to an extreme as well.  Aren't loyalty and obedience precious in the sight of God?"

            Yes, she knew, they were.  They were precious in her sight as well.  But that did not make her despise his race any less.  And the thought of _becoming_ something like that still made her shudder.

            "But," she played her final argument, "I have a duty to the Queen.  If I were to do this, Hellsing would be undermined."

            He actually smiled at that.  "I am not telling you which path is best.  If you die, chances are that you will leave Hellsing in very incapable hands.  If you become a vampire, you will be throwing away your marriage and your reputation.  Your marriage, no doubt, concerns you little, but if I may be so bold I think that you are more concerned with your own reputation than with undermining Hellsing.  I have been and always will be glad to sit in for you at the council meetings, should your absence become necessary."

            Integral's eyes narrowed.  Because she knew him so well, his implication was quite clear—perhaps it was time she died to the public eye; "died" with all that the word implied.  All her arguments shot out from under her, she was left once again to her own discretion.  The problem was, her discretion wasn't cooperating.  Part of her screamed that she would never, never bend to Alucard's will.  The other knew what she had known for ten years, when she had been attacked and personally slit her own throat:  She was mortal.  She could die, anytime.  And she wasn't ready to die.  That part of her latched on to the one romantic wish she hadn't been able to rid herself of; the one where her knight in shining armor saved her from the evils of the world.  Unfortunately, this knight wasn't shining, he was a raving lunatic, and he was just as much an evil of the world as he was her saviour from it. 


	3. In Sanity's Interlude

Author's note: Sorry about the crazy delay-- I was in France. Anyway, this is the midway point and I realize that it's very short, but as of now I've got three endings to the fic and can't decide which one I want to follow. ::sigh:: 

****

DESCENT

He didn't come to argue with her the next day—not once did he appear to interrupt her work, which effectively made her twice as distracted. He may not have manifested himself, but that didn't mean he wasn't present in some form. She could feel his eyes on her constantly, as she tried in desperation to bury herself in the leftover reports from the previous evening. 

She had locked herself in the study, admitting no one but Walter and that was just so he could deliver her afternoon tea. She ran through an entire box of her favorite cigars, taking advantage of the fact that neither Jack nor the children were around to make her feel guilty about it. It was also a subtle dare to Alucard himself; each slow inhalation challenged him to show himself and voice his never-ending disapproval of the habit. But he didn't.

It was smart of him—irritatingly smart. He knew that she was faltering, so he backed off. Her choice would be hers alone, and he was making damn sure that she couldn't place the blame on him later. Bloody vampire. How was she supposed to win a strategy game with someone so much older than herself? She'd been counting on his senility for years, but obviously he wasn't so arrogant that he was beyond cunning.

Her eyes strayed to the burnt stub of cigar still smoking in her limp fingers. She added it to the collection she's started in her little glass ashtray that morning, lit another, and surveyed the room dispassionately. All right. Well, her feelings were muddled and contradictory, and she'd never paid them much heed to begin with. There wasn't a problem in the world that couldn't be thought through to a reasonable conclusion with common sense and a steady application of logic. So, all right then. Logic. What, logically, was making her even _consider_ Alucard's offer, which she had staunchly refused for her entire life? What had changed? She had gotten older, true, which meant that she was nearer to death than she had been ten, twenty years ago. She had never considered herself especially afraid of dying—it was foolishness _not _to be afraid of death in her line of work. But she had been very aware of her mortality from a very young age, and old age was something she had never truly expected to reach. She doubted that she was any more afraid of being killed than she had been at 20.

No, something else. The twins? Not as hopeless as they seemed, nor—more importantly-- as hopeless as Alucard enjoyed pointing out. And even if they were, they would have to be married off someday, and Integral would be sure to pick someone suitable. Just as Jack's attitude of complete indifference made him perfectly willing to leave Hellsing alone, Integral could choose a man who would be able to run it and run it well for her one of her daughters.

The thought suddenly, inexplicably, made her ill. Was she truly so callous? At least she had chosen to marry the Lord of Camden—had anyone tried to make such a choice for her she would have rebelled with all the righteous anger she possessed. It would have been an insult to her pride and intelligence. And here she had been clinging to the idea of doing just that to her own children. _Congratulations,_ her mind snapped viciously at her, _You've become a hypocrite. _

How many times in her 36 years of life had she longed to be free of Hellsing? She loved Hellsing, she _was _Hellsing, but she loathed the restrictions it placed on her—she couldn't afford to do anything but her duty. Her teenage years and her twenties had been viciously snatched from her young hands by the burden of saving England from an enemy that only existed in everyone else's nightmares. She'd toiled relentlessly to protect her queen and then had to work even harder to gain back any semblance of control and respect she'd once had when that same queen turned on her. 

"For God and the Queen," she whispered, hearing the trembling in her voice and hating it. She'd pressed herself to her very limit and beyond for England, and when she couldn't stand any more, she'd prayed for a miracle. Empty, that phrase was to her now. In the end, God had abandoned her too.

It hit her quite suddenly why Alucard's offer tempted her so—he was her best and only friend. Even Walter, whom she loved with all her heart, remained loyal to her in part because she was her father's daughter. He was her confidante, a father, a sage, but not her friend. Alucard; she'd freed him from his servitude that day over ten years ago, knowing full well that he could conceivably turn on her and her organization and destroy everything she held dear. But he hadn't. And even more amazingly, _he'd come back. _He'd walked into her cell as if nothing between them had changed, and given her the same choice he'd always given her. The devil had proved himself more dependable than God.

It was the most singularly disturbing and clarifying thought she'd ever had. And the question was, what did she do with that knowledge now that she'd gained it? What exactly were her feelings for Alucard? Had they changed at all since her teenage years?

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew they hadn't. As much as Seras Victoria had become a valuable asset to Hellsing, Integral could still not forgive Alucard for pulling the policewoman between them. The realization enraged her. Slamming the half-smoked cigar into the ashtray, she picked up the phone and dialed with more resolve than she'd felt for anything else in weeks.


	4. Or

DESCENT

Even knowing Integral as well as he did, Walter was not prepared for the gentlemen who appeared at Hellsing's door just before the dinner hour. 

"Lady Hellsing is expecting us," the elder of the two men explained politely.

"I was not aware Lord Hellsing was taking visitors of any variety," Walter returned just as formally, unable to resist the slight emphasis on "Lord." He stepped back slightly, ushering them into the foyer. "I will tell her you wish to see her, Dr. Murray." He nodded a bow, then turned his attention to the younger man accompanying the doctor, who had yet to say a word.

"My nephew, John Murray," the doctor saved him the effort of asking. "Lord Hellsing asked me to bring him."

"Sir," Walter bowed again, and then disappeared into the shadows.

"Interesting retainers Mrs. Camden keeps," John commented to his uncle, who raised an eyebrow.

"That man was once the most dangerous mortal being in the country. And Integral Hellsing always has been and will be Integral Hellsing, John. I would suggest you refrain from mentioning her husband in her presence."

John frowned. "I'm not a divorce lawyer, uncle."

Doctor Murray smiled. "It seems that you've forgotten all your tact at Yale, son. I hope your discretion has not suffered the same fate."

"All the same..."

"The Hellsing family situation is precarious, perhaps, but Integral is perfectly capable of keeping balance in her household. A divorce is not what she wants you for, I would stake my life on that."

Walter slid abruptly back into view, clearing his throat to announce his presence. John looked down sheepishly, but Dr. Murray held his gaze and gave him a warm grin.

"Lord Hellsing will see you in her study," Walter said, stiff tone betrayed by the ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he exchanged looks with the doctor. Arthur Murray had been a close friend of the previous Lord Hellsing and had served in the war with both Walter himself and Alucard. It seemed that his young miss had finally reached a conclusion of some sort, although what form that conclusion would take was a bit more elusive.

-------------------------

Seras stared at the bag of blood on her table. Change was coming. The air in the manor was so tense she couldn't sleep, even though the weight of her limbs was like lead instead of flesh. She drew a deep breath and then let it out, and again, in and out. She didn't need to breathe and hadn't for over a decade, but for a creature without a heartbeat the rhythm of breathing could be very comforting.

The air was thick with rain, as it often was, but it carried the scent of fear and peril with it. Seras didn't know whose fear, but even she could tell that the situation was precarious. 

Of course it wasn't just the air that told her so. It was her master's distraction, it was Integral's strange questions, it was Walter's eerie humming as he did his duties about the house. Something was about to happen, and the entire organization was holding its breath in anticipation.

And no one thought to inform her about it.

She knew, of course. How could she not? She'd seen her master's thoughts. She'd seen Integral there even the first time when she'd changed over. Integra was always first on the master's mind, and, though it pained her to admit it, in his heart as well. Sometimes, over their years together, Seras had thought that she could make herself as important to him as his master was. She'd never deceived herself into thinking she could win him away from Hellsing fully; even if it had been within her power, it wasn't her right to do so. Lord Hellsing had taken her in when she could have easily have ordered Alucard to get rid of her. She had _wanted_ to order Alucard to get rid of her. Luckily, Integral Hellsing followed logic above emotion when given the choice, and logically, the faltering organization had needed new blood.

So now, after all these years, Integral was finally seriously considering Master's offer to mix their blood. She wondered vaguely what sort of logic had led the leader of an organization violently opposed to vampires to think about becoming one. Not that it mattered--if she had considered it this far, Seras doubted very much that it would be anything more than a matter of time. Then again, what did she know? Perhaps she was simply being fatalistic.

The one advantage over Integral that she'd ever had was her longevity. Master would live on after Integral's death, and so would Seras. She had hoped that in time he would come to regard her with as much respect as he did his own master. But she also knew that the only way to gain his respect would be to prove herself independent. To drink his blood and become a No-Life King herself. And once she did that, there would be nothing to tie her to Hellsing. There would be no reason to stay with her master other than her dogged affection for him. It wasn't enough; Seras Victoria was a hesitant creature by nature, but she was not without pride. It was a year of choices and changes; perhaps it was time for her to make a few of her own. But not today. It could wait just a bit longer-- after all, she wasn't getting any older.

---------------------------------

In all his years serving the Hellsings, there were only a handful of times Walter had found himself tempted to eavesdrop on the master of the house. This was undoubtedly the worst. It wasn't simply that Integra's decision was paramount to the fate of the organization--which it was-- but the fact that she was making such a selfish decision at all.

Walter grimaced. Selfish wasn't the right word. Self-centered was more accurate, but hardly any more complimentary. And Walter did mean to be complimentary. A woman of such courage and strength deserved more love than Integral had ever received. She had Walter, yes, and the memory of her parent's love, but he accepted that it was not enough. He would never expect her to view the affections of her father's closest friend as anything more than fatherly, and in truth it was best for both of them if she never thought to suspect them as anything more. He wasn't bitter about it. Yes, he often wished he were a younger man, but men his age did that all the time for a variety of reasons.

No, he wasn't bitter. But he was selfish. He suspected that he wanted Integra to accept Alucard's offer almost as much as the vampire himself did. She was his little miss, his darling girl, and she deserved the chance not only to be loved, but to give the love she'd had bottled inside her in return. She deserved to be happy, and in Walter's opinion, she deserved to be happy forever. And if he had to choose between giving her to Alucard or heaven, well, Alucard had sworn to Walter that he would protect Integra forever. He simply couldn't say the same of God, if such a creature even existed.

--------------------------------

It was a few hours past sunset when the Murrays left Integral's study. Dr. Murray looked very grim indeed, and his nephew had abandoned his jacket and loosened his tie around his neck. Walter raised an eyebrow as he showed them to the front door, but said nothing. Integra herself would tell him what he needed to know later. Her planning was forever beyond reproach.

He would always wonder later if she had planned what happened next as well.

Walter had just opened the door to see them out when a voice called out and stopped him cold. 

"Just a moment, Walter! Dr. Murray," Jack Camden appeared at the foot of the staircase, slightly out of breath but hiding it admirably. "A word, please, if you would."

Arthur and John Murray exchanged glances, and the doctor shot Walter a quick look before stepping back from the door. "Of course, sir," he said graciously. "Although you must forgive me if I don't stay long--my nephew and I have a previous engagement."

"Of course, of course," Jack acknowledged, ushering them both back into the main portion of the house. "Walter, go see to Integral, won't you? She'll be wanting her cocktail soon, I would think."

Arthur gave the slightest of nods, and Walter bowed almost mockingly low. "At once," he said as he returned the way he had come and disappeared up the stairs.

Jack watched him leave, then sighed. His shoulders slumped slightly and John Murray couldn't help but notice how tired and worn out he looked. Even knowing what he did about the man's character, John couldn't help but sympathize with him. After all, no matter what else he had done, he had been with Lord Hellsing for 12 years. A woman like that could have a terrifying effect on a man.

"Well," Jack said after a moment. "I find that I don't quite know how to phrase my question politely. What's wrong with my wife, Dr. Murray?"

Arthur Murray removed his glasses and rubbed the lenses with his pocket handkerchief, deliberating. Finally, he settled them back on his nose and lifted his gaze to hold Lord Camden's. "I won't mince words, sir," he said formally. "Your wife is dying. And losing her battle very quickly, to be frank."

----------------------------------

Integra looked up at the soft knock at her study door.

"Walter," she said, smiling, as the butler appeared. "Come in."

She took a satisfied puff of her cigar and gestured to the seat John Murray had so recently vacated. Brilliant boy, John. She'd known it since she met him, and his success in America had only reinforced that opinion. A lawyer brash enough to be not only good but acknowledged as one of the best by Americans, who were unnaturally sharkish and brash themselves was most commendable. If that was the type of reputation you were going for, of course, which in Integra's case it was. She rather thought he would have a difficult time in British social situations, but that wasn't her concern. She'd never put much stock in fawning and simpering anyway.

Walter cleared his throat and drew her back to the present. Integra smiled again slightly and pushed the decanter of wine towards her ever-faithful retainer. "Have a drink--I'm feeling better than I have in years."

---------------------------------------

"I see," Jack answered the doctor, looking at the floor. "I told her to stop smoking."

John found his sympathy fleeing before this man, whose tone was betrayed by the sudden relief that manifested on his face. "I'm a property lawyer, Lord Camden," he said pointedly, holding out his hand to be shaken. "My name is John Murray. Lord Hellsing called for me to put her affairs in order. You and your daughters will be well taken care of, and Miss Seras Victoria will be acting as regent for the girls until they are old enough to take control of the Hellsing organization's functions. I'll be happy to go over the particulars with you as well, if you like, although the final decision will be Lord Hellsing's."

Jack searched his face for a moment, and then, finding no compassion there, shrugged defeatedly and ignored the lawyer's offer completely. "How long does she have?"

"A few weeks, perhaps," Dr. Murray answered. "She has refused treatment since her condition was discovered, and continues to do so now. She feels that it would be unbecoming for someone of her station to show such weakness."

"'Since her condition was discovered?'" Jack asked in surprise. "How long has she known?"

"A little over six months now. I discovered the tumor during a routine exam last spring."

"I see. She never said anything."

"She said nothing to anyone," Dr. Murray assured him. "The previous engagement I mentioned earlier is with the Round Table. She has decided that they should be informed of her condition. From there we will have to seek an audience with the Queen herself."

"I see," Jack repeated hollowly. "Then I won't keep you any longer. Please," he gestured for them to follow him from the sitting room, letting them out the front door himself and thanking them graciously. "It is something of a shock, you understand. I apologize for not offering you anything to drink."

"No apology necessary, sir," Dr. Murray smiled his professional bad news smile. "I will be in contact."

------------------------------

Faith watched her father shut the door behind the two visitors from her secret hiding place under the stairs. She and Hope had been playing hide-and-seek when Walter had brought them out of Mother's study. She heard the whole conversation through the vent to the sitting room.

It wasn't true, though, was it? Mother couldn't die. Mother would never die. Mother never cried or bled or made mistakes like other people did. She was simply Mother, and she couldn't die. She couldn't.

She started to follow her father back into the sitting room, to make him admit that it was all a joke and to tell her that of course Mother was okay. But she stopped short when she saw her daddy open the liquor cabinet that he had told her was Only For Guests and start drinking the expensive brandy straight from the bottle. She watched him sink to the floor, ignoring the chairs and sofas arranged throughout the room, and took three steps backwards involuntarily. Daddy was getting drunk again, and her mother was going to die.

She wasn't sure where she was going, or when she started running. Her steps only slowed when she realized that she'd gone beyond The Limit. The Limit was the section of the manor where Faith and Hope weren't allowed to go. "The soldiers live there," Mother had said. "They have guns and may not stop to see whether you're an enemy or just a little girl before they shoot you if you go beyond this limit."

Faith didn't care about being shot. She hadn't believed they would shoot her to begin with, and anyway, at that moment she understood where her feet were taking her.

"My bedroom is on the far right down on the lowest level," Seras had told her once. It was just after the Round Table had come for a meeting with Mother, and all the troops had mobilized as Faith and Hope watched from the top of the stairs, hand in hand. "If anything should happen and you have no where to go, come find me and I'll keep you safe."

Faith had smiled and nodded and promptly forgotten about it in her games with Hope and her schooling. Now the conversation rushed back into her mind and she knew that she did indeed have no where else to go.

The lower levels were creepy, but the lowest was by far the darkest and creepiest of all. It was very cold, but even Faith noticed that it was completely dry. Dungeons were supposed to be dank, although most dungeons weren't quarters for the soldiers, either. Leaving the floor damp and leaky wouldn't be very nice to the troops.

The door on the far right was large and obviously old, made of very dark metal and several latches that were for the moment unlocked. Faith squared her small shoulders and prepared to throw all her weight into the door, expecting it to be very heavy. She wasn't expecting the hinges to be so well oiled, though, and plunged straight to the floor just inside as the door hit the wall with a resounding _thwack_.

"Ouch," she muttered, rubbing her head and looking up to survey the room. There was a bed and canopy along one wall, but nothing else in the room beside a small square table and two chairs. Seras was sitting in one of the chairs, looking down at the young Hellsing in frozen shock. The glass of rich red wine she was holding was frozen halfway to her mouth. Almost unconsciously Faith glanced to the tabletop to see if it was one of the fancy decanters of wine her mother kept, and immediately went as still as Seras herself.

Faith and Hope knew a lot about vampires--Walter was fond of telling stories and even Mother had mentioned them on rare occasions when she was in a particularly good mood. Her school friends scoffed at the stories, but Faith had never thought to question the truth in the concept of the undead. Vampires had fangs, slept in coffins, and drank blood. She had noticed long ago that Seras had particularly sharp teeth, and she had a feeling that if the canopy on the bed was drawn down, she would find it wasn't a canopy but a coffin lid.

Because the wine in the bucket of ice on the table wasn't wine at all. It was a medical blood bag, and Seras was drinking blood.

---------------------------------------

Alucard watched the last light of evening fading, as he often did. The regularity of sunsets was life affirming. Well, no-life affirming, possibly.

He smiled slightly; genuine but sinister nonetheless. No one ever appreciated his sense of humor.

That's why he was sure that no one would appreciate his present good mood. The mood that manifested itself during a particularly good fight, or the eve of a battle that could turn the balance of a war, when countries and rulers rose and fell, during riots and other times of uncertainty and chaos. It wasn't necessarily the chaos itself that pleased him, although the coppery fear of people during such times was as delectable to taste as blood itself. It was that those times were periods of _change_.

He was only young in comparison to the world itself, and that gave him a perception of said world that the vast majority of its inhabitants couldn't even conceive of. He knew the patterns of rapid change and ages of content, and knew how important monotony was to eternity.

When he had first discovered his immortality, he had dug into it full-force. He read all he could, he went everywhere he could, studied history and music and everything he could about the life he no longer had. It had almost driven him mad. All right, hell, it _had_ driven him mad. So many centuries had given him an appreciation for insanity as well. Human beings absorbed knowledge in proportion to the time they estimated they held on Earth; to attempt to do as much when all of eternity was gaping before you was unnecessary and mentally unhealthy. 

It had taken some getting used to, of course. In life he had been impetuous and always active, always _doing_ something. Learning to slow himself down and pace his activity had led to decades of restlessness and ill-content. But eventually, like all true no-life kings, he found a balance that suited him.

Recent years had made him restless again--making Seras had been one result of his cabin fever. He'd rejoiced after Incognito had been defeated, because he was finally free of the Hellsing household. But the newness of it wore off almost immediately, and he realized that he was only technically free of Integral. He hadn't bothered to curse her for it; in fact it amused him that he had bothered to develop any sort of affection for a creature whose life-span was roughly as flickering as an insect's. And he'd known that with her wisdom and strength, she deserved to experience the world as he did. He wanted someone to pass the necessary years of boring peace with, and he had decided that it would be her before she hit her 20th birthday.

He watched her drinking with Walter in the study, the lines of weariness already fading from her face. He'd given Walter the same choice he'd given Integral, long ago, but Walter had refused it with a finality even Integral couldn't match. He missed his wife too much--it was just as well; Alucard had no use for someone who would spend all time wanting to die. Integral was different; she had no real ties to life, and, if he was any judge of human nature (and he'd had centuries to hone that skill), she had one very important tie to him. Her pride and bravado, while respected, were wasted on a being like him--he could and always had seen straight through them.

Alucard had always been most content in the midst of catalytic changes; the one presently looming on the horizon excited him more than he wanted to admit. At his age, getting that excited about anything seemed a bit ridiculous. But his thoughts were his own and even if he was a bit embarrassed by them, no one else ever had to suspect them at all. After all, it was common knowledge that he was psychotic, and he had a great poker face to boot.

---------------------------------------

"So Hope and I are going to have to kill the Freaks now, then?" Faith asked plaintively.

Seras nodded. "You and your sister are your mother's heirs. It was always her intention for you to assume her duties eventually." 

"When she's dead."

"Perhaps not that soon," Seras answered, slightly taken aback. Faith ignored her, looking towards the ceiling in an effort to avoid shedding tears.

"When Mother dies, there will be no one to protect us. We'll need to be able to defend ourselves."

Seras was at a loss. She didn't know how to handle the suddenly wise eleven-year-old. Faith brought her gaze down again to meet Seras's strange red irises.

"Well," she said resignedly. "I suppose I shall need to learn how to use a gun."

Seras couldn't hold back a smile. "Someday you may want to learn how to use one," she ceded, "But you can wait a few years. I will protect you as long as I'm able."

"Promise?"

Vampire eyes met large pleading brown ones. Seras nodded solemnly. "I swear to protect Hellsing with everything in my power."

----------------------------------------

"I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance," Integral muttered, glancing up briefly from her paperwork. Walter had left a few minutes earlier; and, like a cat, Alucard always showed up when there was work to be done so as to mess up her concentration. "There's going to be a few changes to the organization."

"So I gathered," Alucard slid forward until the shadow of his face covered the document in Integral's hands. She put the papers down with a sigh of exasperation.

"What are you grinning at?" she snapped.

Alucard's smile didn't falter. It was just her pride speaking. She didn't know how to ask for anything. "I had assumed my master had finally made a decision." A _favorable_ one, at that.

"Indeed," Integral returned. "But not in answer to _that_ question."

Alucard blinked twice. "Dr. Murray..." he began, and trailed off in utter bafflement.

Integral folded her hands upon the table primly. "Walter actually gave me the idea. We haven't had any luck finding the ultimate creator of the Freak chips, and Hellsing's enemies are considerably more careful dealing with the organization nowadays. I rebuilt Hellsing perhaps a trifle too well. We've gained a reputation for being able to turn any tide in our favor. I've decided to break the foundation and see who we can lure out of hiding."

"..."

"In considering your...offer...I went to Walter for advice. He asked me to think about the repercussions my death would have upon the organization. And I have thought about it. Hellsing, run by two little girls who do not command the loyalty of their mother's pet vampire. In short, Hellsing would be more vulnerable than it has been in a decade, and all that much more tempting a prize. So I've decided to fake my own death."

Alucard was suddenly hit with the intense desire to pick Integra up by the throat and hurl her into the wall. How _dare_ she allow him to think...to purposely mislead him-- That smug smile was unbearable. "I see," he said through clenched teeth. "I will leave you to your plans, then. Although I wonder how long it will take you to realize that you can't simply live between life and death. Eventually, you will have to choose one or the other or the sheer weight of it will break you. And then you will understand the feeling that makes you wish more than anything that you had chosen death."

Integral didn't move to stop him, and he brushed aside the sudden slump in her posture as nothing more than a mortal consequence of age. It wasn't very often that events went other than exactly according to his desire, and this twist infuriated him beyond anything he had felt in recent years. He fully intended to leave her to her plans and never return again, but for her whisper as he melted into the shadows.

"It's so lonely..."


End file.
